


A Memory and A Promise

by HotaruGFC (JaclynGFC)



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-02 08:43:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16301873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaclynGFC/pseuds/HotaruGFC
Summary: Shepard reflects on a childhood tragedy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story of MY Shepard (who is a Spacer/War Hero/Infiltrator and who was also not an only child). This goes into a little bit of her backstory as seen in my head.
> 
> Set at some point in ME3, but in no way would affect the story or outcome of ME3. Just a little reflection on her childhood and tragedy that had hit her fairly young. There's more to this story; it WILL get a little Shenko, it MAY get a little smutty (not sure yet), or it may not get finished at all.
> 
> Oh and I also wanted to write this because I couldn't stand how they used the same body motion for the male and female Shepard when they danced (Oh what I wouldn't give for a game to come out that lets you play a female that actually MOVES like a female!). And because of all the "Shepard can't dance comments". Yeah, well what if it's not that she can't, but that she just doesn't.

Shepard sat alone in the cafe looking at old information—pictures, memories, vids—trying to remember a time when her family had been happy. She lingered on an image of a small woman, graceful, poised, with brilliant red hair and jade green eyes. The young woman was captured mid-arabesque, and she seemed to be floating on the tips of her toes on one foot, her arms outstretches as if she was searching for something or someone.

Shepard zoomed out from the image as she kicked back the rest of her beer, cursing the Presidium establishment for not having anything stronger. She didn't have to read the headline to know what it said; she had already done so a thousand times.

'Promising Ballerina, Marianne Shepard, found dead in auditorium.'

The article was nearly fifteen years old.

"Strange," she mumbled to herself, "that despite facing the end of life as we know it, Mari, I still can't let today pass without feeling seventeen again." She ordered another beer and scrubbed at her tired eyes.

"And to think," she laughed mirthlessly, "I missed the last two anniversaries." She gazed at the image once more before flipping to a different one: her and her sister looking nearly identical, dressed for a recital with their mother beaming from between them; she was twelve and her sister was thirteen.

"Making up for lost time, I guess." She took another swig of her beer as she flipped to the last letter she ever got from her sister. She had been complaining in it about how different it was dancing on Earth, but that she hadn't felt so physically challenged in years. She went on about her new boyfriend—a percussionist at school, who was eventually convicted of her murder. She tried to give advice on what Shepard should do after she graduated.

'Always weigh your options.' she had written. ' Don't think you have to follow anyone else's path. Find your own. Follow your own heart, and it will lead you to where you should be. Just, whatever you decide, promise me that you'll never stop dancing, Mira. Because, you are my inspiration. A song in your heart and a jeté in your step.'

She covered her eyes with a hand, trying to hold back tears that had long since been cried away. Quickly finishing her beer, she stood and strolled through the Presidium marketplace. She had broken her promise for too long. Marianne deserved better on this, the fifteenth anniversary of her death. And if Shepard was going to honor her memory, she needed a new pair of shoes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaiden stumbles upon something unexpected.

He had been pouring over reports and requisitions for the last hour when Joker came over the com.

"Hey, Major."

"Yes, Joker." Whatever it was, he was pretty sure he wasn't in the mood. The dim lights of the observation deck seemed just a little too bright and the crackle of the coms was just a bit too loud. All of which pointed to one thing: his rattled implant was going to give him a hell of a bad night.

"Commander's back and EDI noticed something... off with her biometrics." the voice over the intercom said.

"And you're telling me, because?"

There was silence for a moment. He was not one to ever stump Joker, so the silence was a surprise.

"I just... thought you'd want to know." Of all the people on this new Normandy, he was pretty sure Joker knew and really understood what Shepard had meant to him.

'Had meant?' he thought, 'when did that become past-tense?' He rubbed the bridge of his nose, screwing his eyes shut. He needed sleep, or this was going to be one awful migraine. Pressing that certain spot underneath his eyebrows, he felt the light sensitivity ease a bit.

"Thanks, Joker. I'll look into it in a bit."

An hour later, after his medication finally kicked in and the stabbing pains dulled to aches, he stepped out of the observation deck, only to be confronted by Lieutenants Vega and Cortez.

"Hey, Sparks."

"Not now Vega. I'm on my way to see the Commander." He rubbed his hand over his eyes in frustration and pain.

"Good, cuz she seems upset." Cortez chimed in.

"Yeah, she kicked us out of the shuttle bay and and restricted access." Vega seemed annoyed.

"What?" He sighed impatiently. "I'll, I'll take care of it, just... get something to eat or something. Go out. I don't care." He mumbled as he punched the elevator's call button.

"Shuttle bay." he said, triggering the elevator's voice command as he sank to the floor. He focused on deep concentrated breaths as he rode the two decks down. As the lift slowed to a stop, he rose, waiting for the doors to open.

"EDI?" he asked.

"Yes, Major Alenko?"

"Let me into the shuttle bay."

"Commander Shepard has restricted shuttle bay access for the time being."

"EDI, you told Joker to tell me that something was wrong with her. I'm trying to figure out what, but I can't do that if you don't open the damn doors." He was getting angry and felt a flash of pain through his head. He winced, but the doors slid open and he stepped into the too-bright, too-loud room.

Music filled the air, old music from Earth. Mozart or Bach, or some other similar stuff—his knowledge of music pre-20th century was not that good. When he forced himself to look up and not shy away from the light of the room, he saw her, like he had never seen her before.

She looked graceful and delicate, poised and... feminine. Not that she didn't look feminine at other times, but now she looked distinctly... girly. She was spinning fast, one leg supporting her weight as the other propelled her around and around. With each pump of her free leg, she lifted up onto the toes of her planted foot, her head wiping around in time with the music. Her black clad form rose and fell in ways he never imagined she could, lengthening, reaching one second, then contracting the next. She seemed totally engrossed in the music, her movements. Her eyes were closed, he noticed. She had been pulling every step, every movement from memory. She spun one last time before ending in a practice pose, arms outstretched in front of her, her body weight tilted so the toes of one leg fully supported her, her other leg stretched behind her. She was looking right at him. Her face was struck with horror and she was frozen, paralyzed in that position for a moment longer than her ankle could hold her. It gave way and she collapsed to the ground, or rather would have if he hadn't caught her.

She was breathless but quickly disentangled herself from him and turned away, pulling her knees to her chest. She started to untie the pointe shoes from her ankles.

"What are you doing here? I thought I told EDI to lock the door."

"She was worried about you. So is everyone else." He reached out to her pale creamy skin that was so slicked with sweat and in such a sharp contrast to the black top she was wearing. He noticed for the first time that she was wearing a short, sheer skirt over the outfit. Her pale pink shoes were a sharp contrast to the darkness of the rest of her.

"So you drew the short straw?" He saw a hand go to her face as if she was wiping something away, but he couldn't tell what—tears? The thought made his heart clench.

"Shepard. I... I'm here for you, you know." He squeezed her shoulder and resisted pulling her against him. He felt her body shake with a sob before she turned to him, eyes rimmed in red, cheeks splochy and squirmed her way into his arms. He held her tightly as she sobbed against his shoulder, trying to calm her with shushing sounds, rocking her gently and stroking her hair. He held her for a long time, ignoring the still growing pain in his head.

Once she had stilled and slowly pulled away from him, he saw himself reflected in her shining green eyes.

"So, what were you doing here, Shepard?" He asked cautiously, fearing he might send her over the edge for asking. He would deal with it if he did, but damn he hated to see her cry.

"I was fulfilling an old promise, one I had broken a long time ago." he strained to hear her say. She locked eyes with him again, and he was trapped in her presence.

"You can't tell anyone about this, Kaidan." She said, her voice confident, but her eyes pleading with him.

"I promise." He wanted to touch her face, to seal the deal with a kiss, but he wasn't quite sure where they stood yet and he certainly didn't want to rush her or do anything else to jeopardize the situation. His growing migraine seemed to lessen as he stared into those jade eyes.

She smiled at him, a sad smile, but filled with relief.

"You wanna... talk about it?" he asked as she stood to gather her things. She stopped, and looked at him over her shoulder. A stray lock of hair that had fallen free from its typical place in her bun brushed her cheek.

"yeah, I think I do. Besides, I'm guessing Vega and Cortez flipped out when I kicked them out of here."

He chuckled, then winced.

"You could say that."

"Remember, you promised." she looked at him again in that infuriating way of hers that he can't describe that just makes his heart stop.

"I remember. No one hears a word of this from me." He smiled at her as she backed into the elevator, here eyes always on him. He followed without hesitation.

"Any chance we can talk somewhere dark and quiet?" he asked, a hand flying to his forehead as a wave of pain too strong to ignore struck him. He, vaguely, felt her hand grip his arm as the doors closed.

"Sure, Kaidan." she said softly. "I'm sorry. I didn't know." He managed a weak smile as he looked at her.

"What this? This is nothin... ow ow ow." She brushed his temple gently as his face screwed up in pain.

"Deck one, EDI and tell Vega and Cortez they can go back to whatever it is they do in the shuttle bay." Her voice is soft, concerned as she rubs his back. They continue riding in silence.

"This is the worst I've seen you in a long time, Kaidan." she says, settling him on the sofa, facing away from the always bright fish tank. His eyes flutter open slightly as she props herself on the narrow seat's edge. She stares at him, stroking his brow, concern coloring her features as she notes the dilation of his pupils and his struggle to ignore the fire in his brain. He remembers telling her that's what it felt like—as if he was being stabbed in the head with a flaming knife that sets his entire skull on fire with each thrust. Her fingers trail against his pulsing head as she stands. He hears the sound of running water and then feels cool darkness cover his eyes. He sighs contentedly. She stands again after positioning the damp cloth and squeezes his shoulder.

"I'll be right back. I'm going to get you some pain killer."

"Tell Doc to give me the good stuff." he croaks out. "The normal stuff isn't working." He wonders if that worries her as she hurries out the door. He smiles slightly as he remembers that she forgot to change out of her ballet gear. "Wonder what Garrus would think..." he mutters to the darkness as he tries to wait out the pain.

A while later, he heard the door hiss open and her footsteps enter the room too loudly. He didn't know if it had been a minute or an hour, but he was happy to have her back. Even if it was just so that he could be near her, that's enough, he thought, echoing his thought when he asked her if he could re-join the Normandy's crew. She sat down on the floor next to him and gently ran her fingers through his hair before pushing up his sleeve and injecting him with "The Good Stuff". Almost immediately, the creases on his face started to smooth as the pain killer went to work.

"Feeling better?" she asked, her voice low but soft. Did he imagine the desire he heard there buried beneath her concern?

"If I say yes, will you kick me out?" his deep voice was equally soft, but tinged slightly with fear that she might say yes. She chuckled as she lifted his head and laid it in her lap. Her fingers slowly circled around the tight muscles of his neck and head, working gingerly around the offending implant, as if they had a mind of their own.

"No, I guess not." her voice had taken on a lyrical quality that he's only ever heard when they were alone like this.

"So, you wanted to talk." he prompted. He could feel his head grow heavy with her touch and the drugs that were now pouring through him.

"Please don't tell anyone." Her fingers stroked from his jaw to his temple, eliciting a deep sigh from him. "If it got out that Commander Shepard, 'Hero of the Citadel'" She said the title sarcastically, "was or had been a ballerina, I'm not sure what it would do to my reputation."

He chuckled.

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. Especially if you keep doing that. Oh, that's so good."

Silence hung between them for a moment, punctuated only by his deeply satisfied sighs.

"So how did you become Shepard the Ballerina?"

"I started taking lessons when I was two, quit when I was seventeen and hadn't put on a pair of toe shoes since."

"What happened?"

"My sister died. She was murdered actually."

"Damn Shepard, I'm sorry." His voice was tired and heavy in his throat—an effect of the drugs, but he would not fall asleep on her right now.

"It was fifteen years ago." Her voice sounded far away. He heard the sound of her Omni-tool activating, bringing up images and other stored data. "She was the real dancer." He lifted the now warm cloth from his eyes, thankful the drug was kicking in so quickly. An image of a lovely young woman greeted him. She was smaller that his Shepard to be sure, but damn if the two couldn't have been twins otherwise.

"She had been hired right out of high school to work with an extremely prestigious ballet company on Earth. Hell, they would have taken her at thirteen had my parent's let her go. Watching her dance was, well, I don't have words to describe it." He lifted his head from her lap, reluctantly, and sat next to her. His arm draped across the back of the small sofa and his fingers stroked her still bare shoulder.

"In the last letter she send to me before she was killed, she made me promise her that I wouldn't stop dancing. That we would always have each other as long as we never stopped. I hadn't danced, really danced since she was killed. Not until today."

"So what changed?"

"It was the first time in three years I could honor her. I guess I felt I needed to do so in a big way." She closed the image and the omni-tool went back into standby mode. His arm slid down so it lay across her shoulders and he pulled her close to him.

"It's funny," she said. "It's been twenty years, and with all the stuff that's happening, the Reapers and... well, you would think that something like this wouldn't matter."

"Maybe that's when it should matter most of all, Shepard." He pulled her into a tight embrace, well, tighter without being too awkward anyway. After all, there was only so close they could get on the small surface without her climbing on top of him. His heart thudded at the thought of pulling her to him so closely. He wanted to. Oh yes, did he want to, but would she want the same? And he couldn't take advantage of her grief like that. He brushed her hair instead. It's bright red mass was coiled in a tight bun as usual, but stray hairs were starting to come lose. As the heel of his hand brushed her cheek, he felt her lean into his palm, her own hand clasping his wrist.

"Thanks, Kaidan." She sighed, her lips brushing his palm, sending a very different kind of pain through him.

"Any time, Shepard." He pulled his hand away from her face reluctantly. She caught his gaze. He hoped she didn't see the desire in his eyes, or that she missed his quick wetting of his lips, but he doubted he could be so lucky, not with her. She smiled at him, the first genuine smile he had seen on her for weeks, as she stood up and turned to him. Leaning over him and resting her forehead against his, her smile shifted into rueful.

"But now I'm going to have to kick you out."

"Aye, aye." His deep baritone voice, desirous but disappointed.

"Remember, no one knows." She calls to him as the doors open.

"Of course not, Shepard." He backs through the opening and watches her as the doors slide shut.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Shepard deals with the fact Kaiden saw her dance.

He had seen her dance.

Fuck.

She turned crimson at the memory.

He had fought through a migraine and watched her dance.

She hadn't ever thought to dance for an audience again. It was... unnerving. She sat at her desk looking over at the sofa he had been laying on. Sighing, she released her hair from its typical tight bun. She ran her fingers through it, her scalp tingly as the pressure eased. She was trying to figure out what just happened.

"Oh, what you do to me, Kaidan Alenko..." she breathed out heavily in frustration.

She hadn't remembered a time that he had been so close to her since, well, since before. At least not one when there wasn't gunfire, hospitals, Reapers or Cerberus. She hadn't quite counted on wanting to kiss him so badly.

"Hell, who am I kidding?" she asked herself. "I wanted him to rip my clothes off and fuck me on the shuttle bay floor."

She finally decided that she needed to be honest with herself about this. She wanted him. She loved him, true as she had told him a few days ago, but it was more than that. She craved him; his hands on her skin, the taste of him, his sweetness, and definitely his cock—wherever he wanted to put it. And she wanted him now and in every way possible. She craved his slow and gentle touch as they made love, but she also wanted him to play quick and dirty and rough.

Or maybe I just need to get laid.

She sighed, trying to substitute another for him, but it didn't work. She wanted HIM, dammit. She wanted all of him and only him.

She blew out her frustration. There was no way he could be what she wanted right now, despite their attempts to patch up the broken fragments of their relationship.

Fuck.

She sat there thinking about what started all this mess and then remembered that she had yet to send her mother a message—as had become their tradition on this day, and on the day her father died. The tragedies had brought them closer together, though not by much. She opened up the terminal in front of her and began recording.

"Hey, Mom. Look. I don't know when you'll get this or if you'll get it. I know things are crazy right now with the Reapers attacking and all. I just wish I could go to everyone and say 'I told you so.' But I digress. I just wanted to let you know that I remembered is all. I hope you are doing well—or as well as can be." She pushed her long hair out of her face as she sighed heavily. She hadn't made a habit of sharing things so easily with Hannah Shepard, but she needed someone to talk to.

"And, Mom, I... I have a situation. I don't really have anyone I can talk to about it, not since... not since Marianne died." She flipped the holo-frame, which was still on her desk, but in a permanent face-down position, over and sighed again as she looked at it.

"There's this guy... And before you get your panties in a twist, he's a really nice guy. And I... I think I love him. I mean, I'm pretty sure I love him. And... I don't know. Things have been complicated for a while, but I'm hoping to get everything patched up before the entire universe goes to shit. I guess, with everything going to hell, I just wanted you to know... that I'm trying to find some... happiness." She rubbed her temples.

"Well, it's late and I've got a lot to do if I'm going to save the galaxy... again. I just wanted you to know that I remembered. Love you, Mira."

She signed off and flopped onto her large bed. Her hair fanned out in a halo around her. The bed felt too big, too empty to her all of a sudden. She grabbed a pillow and screamed her frustration into it.

Fuck.

Fucking Kaidan.


	4. Chapter 4

Early the next morning, she stepped into the observation deck that he had made his home on this new Normandy. He was awake, which didn't surprise her in the least. He always felt neglectful of his work after a migraine.

"Good morning, Shepard," he said, smiling slightly as he looked up from his datapad and coffee.

"Kaidan." She took a seat across from him.

"Something I can do for you?" his eyebrow twitched upwards expectantly.

"Honestly?" she leaned across the small table at which they sat.

"Yea, honestly." he put down the datapad he had been studying.

"You could start by putting your dick inside me." she looked at him seriously as his whole body sort of... twitched in surprise at her candor.

"Shepard..." he started, concerned, trying to urge her to take it slow.

"Fuck, Kaidan. It's been torture having you here but not..." her eyes drifted over his chest and her hands flailed with slight grabbing motions. "having you."

His lips turned up in a quirky grin as he crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes flashed with mischief. He picked his datapad up once more.

"Well, I'm sure if you just need a good fucking, Shepard, that there are several willing to give it to you." Her eyes narrowed at his nonchalance.

"Garrus?" he suggested, helpfully, fully aware that Shepard had had a fling with the Turian a few months back. She waved her hand, dismissively.

"It was only that one time, I swear. Besides, he doesn't have the... equipment I'm looking for." One of her hands started drumming on the table.

"From what I hear, Vega would be quite willing."

"Please. I'm done toying with young lieutenants," she said, puffing out her breath. Kaidan's eyebrow rose questioningly.

"Kaidan..." she half-growled, half-whined.

"Joker? Nah, you'd break him... Liara?" he asked as he started grabbing at straws trying to come up with someone. She had never, ever begged him like this, and he wasn't going to give in so easily.

She stood up quickly, frustrated and tense, knocking over the chair she had occupied. She paced toward the door and back. She tried running her fingers through her hair but forgot she had put it back into its typical bun, although it was a hasty attempt. Her fingers got caught on a few strands and pulled them free. They fell and framed her cheek with streaks of flame red.

Fucking Kaidan, she thought.

She knew he was toying with her, but she didn't care. She stopped just before the door. Instead of opening it, she activated her Omni-tool and set a high-level multi-symbol encryption on the lock and locked them in. She smirked at her choice of password—IwantyoutofuckmeKaidanAlenko. He would never figure it out.

She turned back to him with a predatory grin and she walked back to the small table. Ignoring her earlier destruction, she pulled his chair out and straddled his lap. He tried to keeps a serious mask on his face, but she could tell he was fighting a losing battle by the look in his eye, the quickness of his breath—and the bulging pressure in his pants.

Her green eyes locked, challengingly with his chocolate brown ones as she just stared at him for a moment. She shifted on his lap, closer to him and she saw his jaw clench and his neck tighten as he fought to keep his aloofness. She leaned into him and whispered in his ear.

"You asked honestly." her voice was airy, breathless. "So when do you think you might have the time to put your dick inside me?" she rocked her hips against him. He closed his eyes as he let out a groaning sigh.

"Fuck Shepard, you win." He grabbed her ass and pulled her closer to him, capturing her mouth in the same motion. Her hands glided up his chest and tangled themselves in his hair as their tongues danced. She pulled back from him, gazing heatedly into his smoldering eyes as she worked her way out of her uniform tunic. His hands flew to her hair and pulled out the hastily coiled bun in a practiced motion. Her fiery locks floated over her now bare back as he pulled her neck to his lips, nibbling right above the collarbone. She jerked and moaned in response.

She could feel him smiling against her skin as his lips trailed over the tops of her breasts. He grunted in frustration, realizing he could only do so much with her on his lap like this. He grabbed her by her ass once more and pulling her against him, stood up. She stood up with him, her hands working at his uniform, her chest rising and falling quickly as their gazes locked once again.

They said nothing, but their eyes said everything. Pain, loss, frustration, desire, love, forgiveness. It was all there as they worked to shed all layers, all barriers between them. Their gazes traveled over the other's now free bodies before they collided once more. Kisses deep and frenzied. She jumps up on him as he lifts and pulls her closer.

Pushing her into the large window in the observation room, he fulfilled her request as he slid his large cock into her waiting, slick core. She gasped, throwing her head back as he filled her. Pulling out only to slam back into her, he buried his head into her shoulder, sucking on the soft skin there. He relied on friction to hold her against the window as he shifted one hand to her heavy breasts and the other to stroke the soft spot just behind where he entered her. She quivered against him and her breath became more ragged as he flicked his tongue across one of her pert nipples. She cried out as pleasure erupted through her; her fingers dug into his back and tugged at his hair. Her entire body trembled against him, around him.

Slowly, he set her back down on the floor, supporting her weight as her dazed, glazed, but sated eyes met his. She chewed on her bottom lip.

"Was that acceptable?" his raspy voice sent shockwaves through her as he pushed her back against the cold window.

"Yeah. Oh yeah." She pulled his lips to hers as her hand trailed down his back and over his hip. He let out a little groan as her fingers brushed his swollen cock.

"So, what should we do about this?" she asked, suggestively, as she lightly swirled her fingers over its thick tip.

"How much time do you have?" he asked breathlessly. "because I could fuck you for days."

She groaned.

"I love it when you talk like that, Kaidan." She could feel her own desire mounting again. "Unfortunately, we don't have days."

She spun him around so his back was against the cool window.

He shivered slightly, but he couldn't tell if it was from the chill or from her fingers stroking his shaft as she knelt in front of him.

She pushed him up as she licked from just beyond his sac, over its rough surface, then up the long, thick steel-like member she grasped in her hands. Her tongue flicked playfully over the tip, swirling and lapping at the slick fluid building there before she slid his hard member into her mouth. Her lips and tongue working in time, she felt him thrusting slightly into her as one hand tugged at his balls. She sucked hard, taking as much of him into her as she could, her other hand ringing and stroking at the base of the shaft.

His hands tangled in her hair as he pulsed into her, his thrusts becoming erratic until he stilled. He was breathing heavily as she slid him, now spent out of her mouth.

She looked up at him, swallowing deeply and licking her lips. He slowly helped her stand and gathered her back into his arms.

"As good as I remember," she whispered into his ear. He chuckled against her neck.

I love you, Kaidan, she thought, but couldn't yet find the strength to say, so she nibbled at his neck instead.

I love you, he thought, as he bit and sucked at the soft flesh where her neck met her shoulder, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to say it out loud.

Slowly, they disentangled themselves and got dressed. And everything seemed to return to normal, only better.

"Well, back to work," she said—all business-like—as she headed to the door. Once she reached it, she turned around, and smiling at him playfully said, "I want you to fuck me, Kaiden Alenko." She winked at him as the door unlocked and slid open.

"Later," he called after her, shaking his head, as she turned quickly on her heel.

He looked out the observation deck's window, mentally replaying recent events. He was sure he was grinning like an idiot as he looked at the spot where he held her pressed against the glass.

"Yeah, we're good," he said to himself, remembering their conversation back when he was bed-ridden in the hospital. He smiled as he picked up his forgotten datapad.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a few days...

He glanced up from his datapad as he entered the lift to see her leaning wearily against the back wall. Her eyes were closed, and her shoulders were slumped. He felt the sigh slip out as he stood next to her. He could tell she was wearing herself ragged—truthfully, they all were running at a far higher pace than they could handle, but she was taking everything, every death, ever planet's fall, every missing colony into herself. It was like she was using them as a shield, but the shield was really an iron maiden, with its spikes digging deeper as she pulled it closer.

He was worried about her. Whatever they had become since Horizon, since Mars, he hadn't been lying. He still loved her, was still drawn to her, still... craved her. Seeing her like this tore at his heart, but he knew that she wouldn't listen. She was too stubborn to listen. He sighed again and tried to bring his attention back to the requisition list on his datapad.

"Kaidan." Her voice was tired, quiet over the hissing of the closing lift doors.

"Shepard." He tried to keep from sounding too concerned, knowing she would try to take that into herself as well.

"Is it 'later' yet?" Her tired voice drawled and he felt her green eyes piercing him. He knew what she was asking, what she wanted. She had told him briefly of her past and how she escaped into the physical when life became too much for her. While he had turned to chemical avoidances of reality during the worst parts of his life, she used the pleasures of the body to escape. He met her desperate eyes and felt her hands on his waist, her fingers sliding through the belt loops on his uniform. He didn't resist when she pulled him against her.

"Shepard." His voice was soft against her ear, his lips brushed against it. He could feel her quivering at his touch as his own hands snaked around her waist. His lips found hers in a soft kiss that quickly turned demanding. Time seemed to slow as he fell into her, as he willingly followed her into desire.

The lift slowed and stopped, and the doors hissed open. The sound brought him back to reality and sent him fleeing from her kiss.

"You should go get some rest."

"You should come with me."

He smiled and rested his forehead against hers.

"I'll hold down the fort for now. You get a hot shower and some sleep."

"Is that an order, Major?"

"If it needs to be, Mira." He kissed her forehead lightly and brushed wispy strands of hair back from her face. He was sure the entire CIC was watching the exchange and that there could be a whole mess of trouble from this, but she needed someone to look out for her. Typically, that's the job of the XO, but she didn't have one officially, so he took the job on himself. Someone had too, or she'd fall apart, and then the whole crew would fall apart.

She nodded and sank back against the wall of the lift tiredly. He stepped out of the lift and watched the doors slide shut before his mind turned once more to the business at hand. He felt Traynor glancing at him as he plotted a course for the Citadel before heading to the cockpit.

"Joker, how's she holding up?" They had had a few close calls recently one some of the crazy side trips they had made looking for resources. The Reapers were spreading throughout the galaxy far more quickly than any of them had anticipated. Even a routine fuel stop could end up in a run for a relay these days.

"Figured you'd know the answer to that question better than anyone, Kaidan?"

"What?"

"Oh, you meant the Normandy. As best as can be expected. Engineering has some upgrades and repairs they want to make."

"Yeah, I got their requisition list a few minutes ago." he waved the datapad absently. "Who were you talking about, Joker?"

"I would think that is obvious. Our fearless leader, of course."

Kaidan sighed.

"I'm worried about her," he said as he stared out the window at the emptiness of space around them.

"You aren't the only one. Anderson is worried too." Joker replied

"I believe that most members of the crew are also concerned about Shepard, Jeff." EDI chimed in. The free-roaming AI was still disconcerting to Kaidan, but he was trying to come to terms with looking at the face that nearly killed him on a day to day basis. He knew it wasn't the same being, but still, the memory was difficult to overcome.

"I sent her to get some rest," he said, skimming through the requisition list once more. "Do we really need all this?" he asked aloud.

"While some of the parts requested are essential spares, most are for additional upgrades to the ships engines or fuel stores. I believe that Engineer Adams' requests are valid for the coming battle" EDI replied. Kaidan rubbed his hand over his eyes. He could feel a headache coming on—not a migraine, just a normal stress headache, but it still wasn't a welcome experience at this time.

"Adams knows what he's doing, Kaidan. If he asked for it, it must be important." Joker turned his chair around. "You should probably get some rest as well. We'll be a while getting into the Citadel, and your age is starting to show."

Kaidan scowled at the younger man, knowing the remark was in jest, but feeling, not just the years creeping up on him, but also the bone-weariness of his experiences.

Kaidan tossed the datapad onto the table in the observation lounge and stretched out on the small couch in his make-shift office. He briefly cursed Liara for having taken over the executive officer's cabin while he was unconscious after Mars but knew that she needed to have some secrecy for her business as the Shadow Broker. Still, he would have given his right arm for an honest to goodness bed right then.

Well, maybe my left, he thought, realizing that his right arm would likely be indispensable in the coming few days, weeks or months, or however long they were going to be able to hold out against the Reapers. He closed his eyes and willed for sleep to come, but it eluded him. The minutes stretched on as he stared at the back of his eyelids or the ceiling. Tiredly, he got up and left the lounge.

He wanted to look back and say that he hadn't intended to end up at her door, but he didn't know what his intentions were. Between worry and exhaustion, he didn't really have the energy to fight his need for her. The door slid open at his approach. The room was spacious and lit with the soft blue glow of the massive fish tank that lined one wall. It smelled of soap and was impeccably clean and orderly. He walked down a couple of steps into the living area of the quarters and saw her surrounded by the one spot of disorder in the place.

She lay curled on the bed, clutching the bottom of a pillow as a child holds tight to a stuffed animal. A large ratty N-school t-shirt and the corner of the blanket wrapped around her body, leaving her long legs sticking out. She was obviously having a restless night. Kaidan remembered nights that she slept like the dead in his arms after they had defeated Saren. He also remembered watching her sleep without him, and the violent thrashings she suffered as her nightmares and past came back to haunt her. He sat on the small couch and watched her for a moment as the uneasiness of her sleep caused her to shift. He took off his standard issue boots and stretched his toes as he watched. He padded quietly toward the bed, wondering if she had ever fallen out of it. He knew from experience that when she was alone, even the largest bed could be too small should a particularly unpleasant episode take her. She had stilled somewhat by the time he reached her side. He sat on the foot of the large bed—perfect for two, he thought—and took her feet into his lap. He watched her face relax as he stroked and kneaded the pad of one foot and then the other. He felt her shift in the bed, but there was no urgency to the movement. He sighed as he looked toward her and was surprised to see her staring back.

"Is it 'later' yet?" she asked again, her voice near a purr as she pushed herself up.

He felt the corner of his mouth twitch upward as his hands slid over her calves, his thumbs stroking deeply into the muscle along the path.

"Not quite yet." his voice was deep and low as his hands pushed over her thighs.

"Hmm. A pity." Her breath against his lips sent a shiver down his spine. He grabbed her hips and pulled her on to his lap, his mouth catching hers in a slow, deliberate kiss. Her fingers brushed over his chest, tugging at zippers as she attempted to free him of the cloth barrier separating them, their speed belying her need to touch him despite her efforts to let him maintain control. His hands slid up her back, catching the fabric of the thin shirt with them. He pulled it over her head and crushed her against his chest as he captured her lips again.

Losing control was a rare thing for him—unless it was because of her. When he was close to her, he struggled to maintain a pretense of composure. Usually, he was aided by the situation or surroundings, but alone and in relative peace and quiet, with her eyes, so demanding, he discarded the farce of his daily life—the false control he had over his base desires and drowned himself in her. He had told her that he wanted to take things slowly, to become reacquainted with her, to learn to trust again. He hadn't been lying. He did want all of that and more, but confronted with her heat, her desire, her need, those feelings didn't seem to matter as much as the moment—right then, right there. His lips trailed down her neck and he heard her gasp in delight. He moved her from his lap to the bed as best he could while trailing his lips across her collarbone and over her heavy breasts. He felt her lay back and hook her legs around his thighs, urging him closer. He looked up at her as he rested his chin on her sternum and brushed his stubbly cheek against the creamy mound of her breast.

"Kaidan." she breathed as she squirmed beneath him. His name on her lips always drove him wild. Quickly and with little thought, he was above her, entering her, feeling her legs—her walls—wrapping around him, pulling him in deeper, closer. His mouth crashed against her lips as he thrust deep within her. He could tell she was close, so close to a much-needed release. She came quickly as his tongue flicked at her nipple. The feel of her surrounding him, tightening against him as she came brought his own climax quickly crashing down on him—far more quickly than he would have liked. He breathed a moment, hovering over her on shaky arms, his sweat-slicked forehead touching hers. His breath was ragged, but slowing. He kissed her softly before settling down next to her and pulling her close against him.

"We've got to stop meeting like this, Shepard." he murmured, rubbing his face in the snake-like tendrils of her wet hair.

"I dunno. I'm kind of fond of it." her fingertips brushed lightly over his chest. He chuckled.

"Still not how I want to make love to you. But I'll take it for now." He yawned and felt her yawn against him. Together, they drifted off into a restful sleep.


End file.
